Strangers, Pilgrims and Exiles

Solemnity of the Most Holy Family

Last night, His Grace Archbishop Julian officially launched our year long 125th Jubilee Celebration which will conclude on this Feast in 2026. As many of you know, we have received a special decree from the Apostolic Penitentiary on this occasion granting a plenary indulgence to the Christian faithful and all pilgrims during this Jubilee Year. If you feel that you would just need to play host to pilgrims from other parishes, do not fret. You get to be pilgrims yourselves.

What does it mean to be a pilgrim? Many of you would have undertaken pilgrimages to local shrines and some have even visited many international sites. Despite the vast experiences that is available to us, there remains much confusion as to what it means to be a pilgrim. Under the current format for modern pilgrimages, comfort seems to be an essential criterion - comfortable buses, comfortable and moderately luxurious hotels, sumptuous and delicious food selection that suits our local palette and an itinerary that gives value for our money. In other words, most modern pilgrims would only agree to make the journey provided that they can bring the comfort of their homes with them. No sweat, no pain, no sacrifice.

But this is furthest from what a pilgrim is meant to be. St Peter, in his first epistle, tells us that we Christians are meant to be strangers and aliens in a foreign land. There must be a growing sense of disconnect with what is familiar and comfortable to us in order that we may grow in connexion with God. Pope Benedict XVI beautifully describes the process: “to go in pilgrimage is not simply to visit a place to admire its treasures of nature, art or history. To go on a pilgrimage really means to step out of ourselves in order to encounter God where He has revealed Himself, where His grace has shone with particular splendour and produced rich fruits of conversion and holiness among those who believe.” And this is what we witness in the lives of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

We Catholics often view the Holy Family as the quintessential model for family life. But I would like to propose to you that the Holy Family is also a model for pilgrims. They teach us how to “step out of ourselves in order to encounter God.” The Holy Family were no strangers to pilgrimages. In fact, they would have been seasoned pilgrims. They would have faithfully made three annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the great feasts. You may recall the story of how our Lord was lost and found in the Temple on one of those occasions. Though the synoptic gospels (with the exception of St Luke) did not mention this annual ritual in the life of the Holy Family, St John shapes and structures his gospel around these pilgrimage festivals. One last time during Holy Week, our Lord travelled to the holy city for the great Passover. On this last occasion, His mother travels with Him faithfully, experiencing her true labour pains at the foot of the Cross, as a sword of sorrow pierces her heart, fulfilling Simeon’s prophecy at the Presentation (Lk 2:35).

The observance of the annual cycle of making pilgrimages to Jerusalem thrice a year is not the only reason we can speak of the Holy Family as a model for pilgrims. Each of them had experienced personally and together as a family a spiritual form of pilgrimage that exhibited their deep faith and obedience to God’s will. St Joseph showed unwavering obedience to God when he took Mary as his wife and in today’s gospel, led his family to Egypt to escape the clutches of the cruel King Herod. The dislocation of an entire family in ancient times was no small matter, but the Holy Family was reliving the experience of the patriarch Abraham who ventured far from his homeland and the Israelites who were rescued from slavery as they made their way to the Promised Land. They had to be uprooted from the familiar in order to be rooted in what God has planned for them. Despite all the uncertainties and radical changes they had to endure, God remained their firm anchor. Wherever God was and is and will be, they were “home!”

The Holy Family were not only fellow pilgrims but offered hospitality to other pilgrims. Both Joseph and Mary received pilgrims in the form of the Magi who came to worship the newborn king and offer their gifts of devotion, just as this parish dedicated to the Holy Family opens our arms to welcome pilgrims for this Jubilee Year. The experience of the Magi begs this question: what have we brought along with us on this pilgrimage to offer to God?

Mary after receiving the visit of the Angel Gabriel would make her own pilgrimage to visit her cousin Elizabeth where she would sing of God’s wondrous works and care for His people. St Joseph, at the end of his earthly sojourn on this earth, would make his final pilgrimage to heaven at his death. That is why Catholics should pray to him seeking a happy death. After the death of Joseph, Mary would accompany her Son on a journey of discipleship that will eventually take her to the foot of the cross. She too would make her final journey to be reunited with her Son when she was assumed into heaven, body and soul.

Our pilgrimage of life can become another “school of Nazareth” where human virtues blossom in the deepest love and devotion. The Holy Family teaches us to “step out of ourselves,” trust in God’s plan, cherish our friendships, embrace simplicity, persevere through challenges, prioritise our spiritual lives, and cultivate love and respect in our relationships. A pilgrimage is an occasion of daily faithfulness and kindness, where Christ is always at the centre of our lives, with prudence shaping all the decisions of the day, great and small, and patience in bearing with each other. Despite great hardships, poverty and uncertainty, the Holy Family accepted all suffering with a spirit of faith and filial trust in God. Even the most painful events did not disturb the harmony and peace of the Holy Family, because God always came first and everything is done according to His Will. May this be our response as well when we encounter difficulties along life’s journey.

Friends, we are only passing through this difficult and dangerous world. We are strangers, pilgrims, and exiles far away from home. We are on a journey to our true home in heaven. Constantly remembering this will protect us from falling prey to sins of the flesh and the strongholds of sin coming from an alluring world. Let us learn from the Holy Family to be sufficiently disconnected from this world, so that we may be connected with each other in our families, in our communities, in our Church and with God now and forever in Paradise. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, be with us on this journey. Amen.

The Word broke His Silence

Christmas Mass during the Day

Some of you may be familiar with that poem known as “A Visit from St Nicholas” more popularly known as “the Night before Christmas,” because it begins with this famous opening line: “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ….” The imagery of silence is heightened by another idiomatic expression: “as quiet as a mouse.” In this case, you can’t even hear the squeak or the scurrying of a mouse. Yes, that Christmas night is indeed a Silent Night, a Holy Night!

But the silence of that first Christmas night would have been broken by a new born baby’s crying and that cry did not just pierce the night air but resounded throughout the world and throughout history - past, present and future. As much as we appreciate some quiet alone time after all the partying and carolling last night and the preceding weeks, we must open our ears and hearts to hear the noise of this child, who is no ordinary Child. This morning’s gospel declares Him to be the pre-existing Word. The Word was made flesh, born to break the chaos of silence, to bring order out of nothing. There had to be a birth of the Word at the beginning of time, there had to be a birth at Christmas time, there had to be a birth on Pentecost.

Some would naively argue that the concept of the “Logos,” translated as “the Word” in St John’s lyrical prologue, was something radically new, an appropriation of a Greek philosophical concept. But in the Book of Wisdom in the Old Testament, we find not just a subtle and distant hint but a blaring proclamation of the movement of the Eternal Word:

“For while all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy almighty Word leapt down from Heaven from Thy royal throne, as a fierce conqueror into the midst of the land of destruction” (Wisdom 18:15).

As with most holidays, Christmas generally tends to be a noisy feast filled with strong, joyful carols proclaiming: “For Unto Us A Child Is Born,” “Joy to the World,” “Angels We Have Heard On High,” “Go Tell It On The Mountain,” etc. And this is all true, and very good, and very beautiful. But there is also a silence to be contemplated, a silence that is often missed and dismissed. The great things that God works within His creatures naturally happen in silence, in a divine movement that suppressed all speech. For what could we say? When God speaks, all voices must remain silent. Thus, God’s heavenly secret is kept under the seal of silence unless He Himself opens the lips and makes the words come forth. And this is what happened as the Book of Wisdom said it would happen: “For while all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy almighty Word leapt down from Heaven from Thy royal throne.”

The Word Himself, God, the desire of all nations, “leapt down from heaven” in “quiet silence,” physically took on silence, becoming a new born human, an infant. And in the wonderful silence in the stable, Mary and Joseph looked at Jesus for the first time and contemplated the mystery of His birth in silence. Today, in the midst of our revelry and celebration, we are called to adopt an atmosphere of silence if we wish to grasp the mystery of His Incarnation and hear His gentle whispering.

Although the Incarnation took place in silence and the divine movement often takes place in silence, there is also silence which is imposed by force and violence – a silence which seeks to silence God’s Word. St John tells us that “He (the Word made flesh) came to his own domain and his own people did not accept him.” It should come as no surprise, therefore, that Christmas, a reminder of the birth of the Son of God, must be removed from the public square and its message silenced because the message of Christmas, one of life, threatens the prevalent culture of death.

The human race has always known violence to the innocent, evidenced by the actions of Pharaoh and Herod and in the last century, Hitler and Stalin. Today, we have the new enemies of truth, the globalists governments and media that seek to police speech and silence persons who dare to challenge the official version of the truth, their truth. While adults can make their voices heard in protest, the unborn, the sick and the elderly, are easy targets because of their natural silence, if no one speaks for them and on behalf of them. Today, that struggle manifests itself in new and frightening ways - with the proliferation of abortion mills and passing of legislation which legalises the murder of innocents, the sick and the elderly and which seeks to silence dissenting voices. The violence has become customary, normalised, more imaginative and terrifying.

But our Lord shows us that life is ultimately victorious. Life conquers through its ability to empty itself out. The power of the Christian faith manifests itself most especially in being what the world is not. To arrogance it counters with humility. To cynicism it reacts with innocence. To deception it responds with truth. To glamour it demonstrates with simplicity. To death it responds with life. To a cacophony of noise, it offers silence. Christian faith is simply the opposite of everything that the world would expect and want. It offers “mud,” when the world would want “gold and silver.” This is what Christmas is all about. Christmas bears a dangerous message which threatens our world and yet, it carries with it the only message which can save the world.

But there is great irony in the liturgy of the Church. In celebrating a humble birth, we offer our best - we offer our “gold and silver”. To the silent entry of the Word into our world, we offer our voices in songs of praise and wonderment. We enrich the liturgy with the best that we have to offer because the accoutrements of the rituals manifest the beauty of a world that is not ours and thrusts us forward and upward into an unimaginable beauty, a sign of a world to come.

Today, we come to the manger offering our best only because we have acknowledged the worst in us: the noise we make in competition with God’s sublime Word; the “mud” we have covered ourselves in - our sins, our weaknesses and shortcomings. Instead of plugging our ears, we should gladly open them to welcome the Word. We take courage also in knowing that the Word broke His silence and entered into the noisy madness of our world as He stepped into the “mud” of our fallen existence. Yes, the Eternal Word which leapt down from heaven from His royal throne, has stepped into the filthy “mud” in which we are mired. We were once formed from dust, but now our Lord gives us new life by remoulding the “mud” of our being into a new creation. There is every reason for us to break our silence today, to make a joyful noise and announce: “Indeed, from His fullness we have, all of us, received – yes, grace in return for grace.”

Wow!

Christmas Mass in the Night

“Wow!” Can you recall the last time you said that, perhaps, involuntarily? "Wow” is often offered with a gasp, a sharp intake of breath, when we can't think of another way to capture the sight of shocking beauty or destruction, of a sudden unbidden insight or an unexpected flash of grace. “Wow” is about having one's mind blown by the mesmerising or the miraculous.

I think most of us would have forgotten our last experience of Christmas that would have earned a “Wow” from us. I guess this would have happened when our walking was still wobbly, where every new discovery, every bright light and colour would have immediately made us wide-eyed with amazement. In other words, when we were still babies or toddlers. But then we grew up, we grew older and everything changed. Our sense of excitement and wander began to dull and languish, and everything became ordinarily commonplace and blasé. Instead of an exclamation of “wow”, we would now choose to sulk in a corner and grumpily complain: “humbug.”

I get a sense that there are more “humbugs” these days than “Wows!” Most people today complain that it doesn’t feel like Christmas for them. I get enough of these complaints during the penitential services in the various parishes where I get to hear hundreds of confessions. What do they mean by that? I guess for most people, there is an expectation to hype up the joy and excitement of Christmas as the day draws nearer, but it’s hard to feel excited or joyful these days because there are too many things on our plate which leads us to feel overwhelmed. And so, they slowly withdraw from social interactions with family and friends, feel exhausted even when they do Christmas shopping, and spend their holidays wallowing in self-pity and depression.

Why does Christmas have this impact on so many people? I guess part of the reason is something which I’ve often highlighted. It’s the pandemic of narcissism that has so afflicted our society. A narcissist is someone obsessively absorbed in himself. “It’s all about ‘Me’.” Narcissists hate Christmas. The Grinch, of Dr Seuss’ children’s poem, is such a creature. His heart is two sizes smaller because he is only capable of “loving” himself, if you could call it love. To say that narcissists suffer from deep anxiety during this season is an understatement. Narcissists love to be the centre of attention, and they will not tolerate any other star who will compete with them for that attention. And who’s the actual star of this season? The Birthday Boy Himself and today all of us here are to celebrate His birthday. And so the narcissist will attempt to deflect our attention by manipulating, trying to earn your sympathy, they will list down a long list of complaints, mostly imaginary, in order to get you to shift your attention to them.

My frequent response to these complaints is this: “What do you mean by saying “it doesn’t feel like Christmas”? Christmas did happen over 2000 years ago. A baby was born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. God became man over 2000 years ago. A Saviour has been born to us over 2000 years ago. And nothing you feel or not feel is going to change that!” The truth is a bitter red pill to swallow. Perhaps the person would have been conditioned by years of listening to or singing that popular contemporary Christmas song: “Christmas isn't Christmas till it happens in your heart.” But the truth is that Christmas doesn’t need to happen in your heart before it happens. That’s subjective delusion. Reality does not revolve around your feelings, any more than in your thoughts. Christmas is real because IT IS as the angels declared it to the shepherds: “Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”

So, the antidote to ennui, to boredom and restlessness is not found in seeking attention or getting people to show sympathy to your condition. It is shifting our gaze from ourselves to the One whom Isaiah describes in the first reading as “Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.” He alone is our “Saviour” and for this reason we should share in the “great joy” which the angels announce that first Christmas night, “a joy to be shared by the whole people.” I want to take up the first name given to this child in Isaiah’s prophecy whom we know to be Christ; "he will be called Wonderful Counsellor."

When we hear the word "counsellor," we shouldn't think "therapist." In fact, one of the clear by-products of the pandemic of narcissism is the proliferation of therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists and counsellors. In the past, when you were troubled, you would go in search of a priest to make your confession or seek spiritual direction. Today, you look out for a therapist to listen to you tell your “stories” about yourselves (which is why so many confessions end up in being storytelling sessions rather than a grace-filled opportunity to confess one’s sin out of genuine contrition).

But here, the title “Wonderful Counsellor” is something quite different from the professional sounding board. Remember, in the ancient world, a counsellor was someone who devised plans to win military victories. This is what we see in the first reading. Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judea were facing the threat of imminent invasion by the Assyrians. They were literally a people who were walking in darkness as they had exhausted all options and plans to fend off the enemy. It is here that Isaiah speaks to them of assured divine assistance in the form of a child, an heir to the throne of King David. The best strategy belongs to God. The riddle of Isaiah’s prophecy is finally solved with the birth of this child and who else would be the best person or persons to announce this than the angels, the direct messengers of God.

When we see how God has been playing 4D chess, setting up His plans by moving all the pieces on the board, setting history in motion and then directing it in a most inexplicable way and finally revealing that everything is pointing to this moment - the birth of a child in a small obscure town in the greatest empire on earth, we ought to sit back and marvel. His plans should blow our minds; mesmerise us with the miraculous; show us shocking beauty, unexpected flashes of grace; cause us to gasp, with a sharp intake of breath, and say, "Wow!"

So, if you are feeling down, depressed, or dry in your spiritual life, don’t give up, don’t look for distractions, don’t clutch your pearls, don’t seek attention by crying and complaining to others and finally, don’t despair. In fact, it is good to take a step back and take in the entire view. On this night, we remember how God sent us a Saviour to redeem us. He is “Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.” By choosing to unite His divinity with our humanity, He has truly set us free from the invisible shackles of sin, He has brought light into our darkness, He has given us hope in exchange for our despair, He who is God became man so that we humans can become gods. This is so wonderfully astounding that the whole company of heaven had to show up for the announcement of this child's birth because they were so astonished with the plan God had devised to save the world. What an amazing and wondrous gift that should make all of us, indeed the whole creation inhale in wonder and declare: Wow! Wow! Wow!

He weaves all sorts into His story

Christmas Vigil Mass

The story of the birth of Jesus Christ has been told for centuries. The most familiar accounts can be found in Christmas cantatas and children’s Christmas plays, and they usually involve the story of the annunciation to Mary, the birth of the Christ-Child in Bethlehem or the appearance of the angel to the shepherds, yet the liturgy of the vigil Mass begins the story where Matthew begins his Nativity story, that is with the genealogy of Jesus.

I enjoy reading this long list of weird sounding names and love the sound of each rolling off my tongue. I’m quite sure that I would have mispronounced some and butchered most of them. For many the list seems pointless to our Christmas narrative, and many would choose to just skim over or even skip this portion completely, which the liturgy anticipates by offering us the shorter version which includes the last few lines of the text whilst excluding the rest. But I am convinced that our understanding of this vigil liturgy will be impoverished when the genealogical list is missing. And it’s not because I’m a liturgical masochist.

The inclusion of this list in Matthew’s gospel is not accidental. Matthew appears to be teaching us a powerful message about the Messiah by recording His lineage. Matthew divides the genealogy into three main sections of fourteen names each. The first section lists the patriarchs, the second lists kings, and the third lists names of people mostly unknown to us.

The genealogy begins with Matthew stating, "A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” Does Matthew wish to present his entire gospel of Jesus Christ as a genealogy? One would imagine that this short line would be an adequately succinct summary of our Lord’s human origins. But then Matthew continues with the list by going into the details starting with the great patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. These were men of great faith who left us heroic examples of righteousness. Right from the start, Matthew appears to be giving us a key to understanding his message. Each of these men were promised that through their seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed, a blessing that would be fully realised only through the birth and coming of the Messiah.

In the second section of the genealogy, we have a list which includes Judah’s kings from David to the Babylonian captivity, emphasising the importance of the dynasty of King David. David was seen by the Jews as their greatest king. Through him the nation of Israel was united. Under his command, the temple was built by his son Solomon. Through his seed the nation was ruled by the line of the kings. One would imagine that his successors would meet up to his legacy. But none of them did, save for two. Only two of the fourteen kings mentioned were considered righteous. Most of them failed to guide their people to the Lord. In fact, they led the people astray with their idolatry and burdened them with social injustices. The true King of Kings in David’s royal line would only be fulfilled through Christ, the Anointed One.

Finally, the last section lists names of those that are otherwise mostly unknown in the Bible. Matthew shows us the critical role these unknown persons played in the story. We can easily view ourselves as nothing special when compared to great spiritual and political leaders like the patriarchs and kings in the previous two sections. But many of us would find good company among those mentioned in this third section, namely the unknowns and insignificant.

From these divisions, we can see that God is able to work through both the spiritually and politically powerful, as well as common ordinary folks that appear to be powerless, unknown and insignificant. And that last part is good news for us because it teaches us that each of us can play a critical role in helping to build the kingdom of God, even if we can boast of no outstanding pedigree or significant influence.

What more, rather than an evolution which leads to the production of a perfect man due to centuries of selection of the fittest over the weakest, the genealogy seems to indicate a regression. What seems more scandalous is that after listing out the genealogy of Joseph which can be traced back to Abraham and David, Matthew makes a simple cursory note that the Saviour is to be born of Mary, but He will not be scion of Joseph. The Saviour is ultimately unconnected to this genealogy of both notables and unknowns. Which leads us to this truth - that though the Messiah is prophesied to be “a son of David, a son of Abraham,” He will not be the product of good genes and an impeccable lineage. The Saviour of the world would come to us as God’s decisive intervention in human history. God will be the cause of this messianic evolutionary leap, not genetics. Through this Saviour, God will inject His genes into the DNA of humankind.

There are four names which stand out in this list, they are that of women. Of all the women ancestors of our Lord, why would these four be named. It was certainly not because they were womanly paragons of virtue since one was guilty of incest, another of prostitution, another was an opportunist and finally, the last mentioned seemed to have willingly committed adultery and tacitly participated in the murder of her husband. Once again, we are shown the subversive side of God and the paradox of God bringing something exceedingly good out of something apparently bad. It is a reminder that, not only do bad things sometimes have good effects, but that in some cases the badness of the cause is essential to the realisation of the good effect. If not for Adam’s sin, our Saviour would not have come. If not for Christ’s death, we will not be saved. If not for these women to continue the line of Abraham and David, our Lord would not possess the messianic title of being called “Son of David” or “Emmanuel.”

After these four female ancestors of questionable reputation, the last woman mentioned stands out. She is Mary. She does not have any illustrious genealogy to boast of. Her origins are unknown. But we do know her as a Virgin who was hailed by the angel as being “full of grace.” Unlike the other women, we finally have a woman untouched by sin, which the Church teaches is not through her own merits but through the merits of her Son. Her place in the story highlights the truth that the Messiah’s true origin is God. Jesus, our Saviour, comes from God and is indeed God because God alone can save us from our sins.

As we read the genealogy of Jesus Christ and consider the people mentioned in His lineage, we learn how God chooses all sorts and weaves them into His story of salvation. Whether a righteous prophet, an imperfect leader, an unknown helper, or someone with a questionable background or reputation, all are known to the Lord. No matter our status, background, gender or station in life, we too can have our name added to the long, beautiful list of those who play a critical role in God’s plan of salvation. During this Christmas and every Christmas, let us not forget that our Lord Jesus chose to be born into our human story, our history, to be “a man like us in all things but sin" (Eucharistic Prayer IV, cf Hebrews 4:15). O Come O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel!

O Come O Come Emmanuel

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A

What unites the first reading and the gospel is the prophecy first delivered to King Ahaz in the waning days of his rule and which the evangelist quotes in the gospel to show how the message delivered to St Joseph about the virginal conception of his betrothed, the Virgin Mary, is a fulfilment of that very same prophecy.

If you suffer from being overly pedantic like me, and if you have read both passages instead of just listening to it, you would realise that the spelling of the Hebrew title translated into English as “God with us,” is spelt differently in both the first reading taken from the Old Testament and the gospel passage which quotes the same. Both Immanuel and Emmanuel are correct spellings, as they are different transliterations of the same Hebrew word meaning "God with us". Immanuel is the direct transliteration from Hebrew, while Emmanuel is the transliteration of the Greek version of the name. The difference in spelling arises because the New Testament was originally written in Greek, which uses the spelling with an "E".

Now that we’ve covered that, let’s go to the substance of what the readings speak about. The context of the first reading is that Ahaz is feeling conflicted when contemplating his political future and the fate of his nation. Should he trust in a human solution to save his country from destruction threatened by a superpower by entering into a treaty with another superpower or should he just place his trust in God? Of course, the prophet Isaiah tells him to trust God and should he have any doubts, Ahaz could simply ask for a sign from God, which he refused initially out of false humility. But when Ahaz refused the sign, Isaiah told him that God insisted on giving him a sign that would be: “the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’ Some have postulated that this prophecy is referring to Ahaz’s own son, Hezekiah, who proved to be a fairly good albeit imperfect king. But the deliberate ambivalence of the prophecy soon evolved into an expectation of a distant messianic royal heir that would prove to be Israel’s saviour.

While doubtless there was some contemporary fulfilment for Ahaz, the destruction of Jerusalem would be temporarily postponed, the actual fulfilment or “full-filment” would only come in Christ. Pope Benedict XVI calls this prophecy a “word in waiting.” The evangelist, in fact, appeals to this text in Isaiah to show that the birth of our Lord is what Israel had been waiting for through the centuries. In fact, this promise frames the entire gospel of St Matthew.

Some have asked why Jesus wasn’t named Emmanuel as clear proof of the fulfilment of the Isaian prophecy. An obvious reply is that Emmanuel is a title rather than a personal name just like “Christ,” which means the Anointed One or the Messiah. But, Emmanuel is not so much a name or a time as it is a message, “God is with us!” At the beginning of the gospel, Isaiah’s prophecy is invoked here in the infancy narratives and the same gospel closest with the great commission where our Lord promises: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.” What a joy, what a consolation to know that God is with us now and for all eternity, and that Christ has never left us.

Many a Christmas sermon will dwell on the meaning of Emmanuel, God-with-us, but if we are honest, most of us have known times when God, if there is a god, seems distant, unapproachable, not interested in us or our doings. If we are honest to admit it, many of us would have asked, ‘Where was God during this crisis or that?’ ‘Where was God when I lost my job and am now threatened with losing my home?’ ‘Where was God when my mom or dad died, or when I found out I had a terminal illness?’ St Joseph in today’s passage would have also wondered how he could end up marrying a woman, his betrothed, who was with child not sired by him. Had God abandoned him? These are legitimate questions, and the standard answer, that God was with us as we suffered, rarely convinces. We need a God not afar off but close at hand, and for many, God is not close at hand.

Perhaps instead of trying to answer the question ‘where was God?’ we have to explore the question ‘where is God?’ At first sight, that may seem like a mere play of tenses; but if we stop and think about it, it is anything but semantics. To ask where was God is to ask a question of history, to go back in time; to ask where *is* God is to pray and enter into a relationship with Him here and now. The first question is naturally narcissistic, seems to focus solely on me as the centre of the universe - me me me me! The second question shifts the focus away from ourselves to God. God has not withdrawn Himself from us or hidden Himself in some inexplicable way. He is tangibly though mysteriously present to all who trust and have faith in Him. And that surely, is what the Incarnation has brought about in a most wonderful way.

During his moment of doubt when he was contemplating divorcing his betrothed, the Angel visited Joseph and gave him this assurance. To paraphrase the angelic message: “Do not be afraid! God is with you! Not just literally but in reality! God is with you in that child. So, don’t just think of yourself and the shame which this may befall you but think of the glory of Israel and the salvation of the world which this child will bring. It is indeed a privilege for you to be part of this!”

Likewise, we cannot fear God or think Him unapproachable when we know that in Christ, He has taken human flesh and blood and been born, just as we are, just as dependent as we are. He cannot undo that — He has bound Himself to us for ever and is with us to the end of time. Whatever happens, however low we fall, however much distress or failure we experience, we know Him to be true to His name - Emmanuel. He is with us. God is with us …. Always! And this week, we will celebrate His birth in time. O Come O Come Emmanuel!

Be Patient because the Lord is coming soon

Third Sunday of Advent Year A

Though many would agree that patience is a virtue, it is often in short supply. We have an expression in Cantonese that best illustrates this lack of patience - “kanchiong” (pardon the self attempt at transliteration). Why is it so difficult for us to be patient, to wait?

Humans, or at least modern humans, are wired for instant self-gratification, to seek pleasure now, and modern life is filled with examples of quick satisfaction, from one-click shopping to instant messaging, to looking for the shortest Masses in town (best below 45 minutes). Impatience, which was once widely viewed as something negative is not seen in a more positive light, a sign of being busy or important, while waiting can be perceived as being lackadaisical. Being enslaved to digital technology does not help. The internet and streaming services provide on-demand content and information, reinforcing the expectation that things should be accessible immediately. Finally, experiencing uncertainty can make people want to control the present moment to make it as pleasant as possible, leading to irritation when there are delays.

Waiting for change and results can be frustrating when we are consumed by this impatient mindset. But the central message of our readings today is clear - transformation and change is certain, our Lord is coming without a doubt, our goal is within reach even if we still cannot see it. St James tells his readers in the second reading: “Be patient, brothers, until the Lord’s coming. Think of a farmer: how patiently he waits for the precious fruit of the ground until it has had the autumn rains and the spring rains! You too have to be patient; do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”

In the first reading, Isaiah speaks of how an arid desert suddenly blooms into lush green farmland. Though, we wet landers can never imagine this happening, this does occur in certain years when there is ample rainfall. But sometimes, you need to wait for months and even years before you see any substantial rain in these dry lands. The Prophet Isaiah’s description of the transformation of nature is, of course, not meant to be literal. The same could be said when he speaks of what seems to be medically impossible: “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy…”

These images provide the background for John the Baptist’s question to our Lord in the gospel. “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” Or rather, “Is the desert blooming, or not, or do we have to wait for another year?” It is consoling that the great Baptist himself was impatiently waiting for the One he was preparing the people to receive. And the Lord comes back with a definitive yes: the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have the good news proclaimed to them. The miracles which our Lord performed were intended to confirm that He is the “One who is to come.” He is the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy that the rains have come in the desert. Those who were thirsty are now experiencing the life that comes from the living waters of God.

What does all of this have to do with Advent? The virtue of Advent is patience. Most people have little patience for Christmas to happen. They are already putting up Christmas decorations, throwing parties and singing carols at the beginning of December, if not even earlier in November. Now, I don’t wish to sound like the Grinch who attempts to steal the Christmas joy from everyone. God knows how much we need joy in our lives these days! Joy, like patience, is in short supply too. But it is critical to recall once again that Advent isn’t first about Christmas (at least not until the 17th of December); it’s first about the Second Coming of the Lord. It is good to heed the words of St James in the second epistle as he brings to mind the image of a farmer waiting for his yield. The fruits of the earth take time. They cannot be rushed. The law of growth is rest. The soil must not be disturbed. Above all we must not disturb it ourselves by our own egoism. We must not turn it over and dig it up by anxieties and scruples. Anyone who grows things can understand the analogy. When you think about it like this, waiting for seeds to sprout—or for fruit to ripen—is very much like the waiting and the enduring patience which is required of Advent.

The patience of Advent is meant to train us far beyond the patience of waiting to open presents until Christmas, although we all know that such patience can feel like quite the trial when you’re at a certain age! We are waiting for the fulfillment of all things in Christ. We are waiting for the end of the world. We are waiting for the end of our own lives. We are waiting for judgment. We are waiting for God to act and no one is in control of God. We are waiting for a solution to the problem that hangs over our heads like the Sword of Damocles. But let us not forget - He sets the pace. He establishes the time and seasons. He determines the path and the final outcome. All we must do, is patiently and humbly wait upon Him.

But, this doesn’t mean that we have nothing to do. Growing in patience is hard work, you don’t just take it lying down. I’m often amused when people tell me that they need more patience because they find it unendurable to put up with vexing individuals in their lives. I will tell them: “God is indeed answering your prayers. How do you even think of growing in patience if you do not have these individuals in your life?” As hard edges sharpen knives, uncomfortable situations and persons can make a person stronger and more patient.

There are so many ways in which we can begin to cultivate and grow in patience this Advent season. We can grow in patience when we have no visible results for our prayers, sacrifices, and efforts. We can practice patience when we experience our many personal failures and see the failures of others. We can mature in patience when we feel helpless in the face of all the evil and injustice spreading in our world. We can practice patience as we see our Church riddled with scandals and threats of heresies. Our patience is strengthened when we endure many trials and temptations and overcome personal struggles. We grow in patience as we love the ones who irritate and annoy us. So don’t worry. Our patient God will provide us many moments to grow in this virtue of patience as well as the graces of being patient like Him. So, “be patient; do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”

The Price for Lasting Peace

Second Sunday of Advent Year A

Recently, New Yorkers elected a man as their new mayor, which many hail as their Saviour whilst others accuse as being a communist. Some see him as a future hope for the city while others view him as one of the four apocalyptic horsemen that would bring about its destruction. What endeared him to most of his supporters was his primary campaign promise to dish out “free stuff.” Free bus. Free housing. Free groceries. Now, who wouldn’t like “free stuff”?

Have you ever longed for a place where everything was “free”? A place where people worked together, shared together and genuinely cared for one another? A place where poverty, conflict, rivalry, violence is absent or abolished entirely? Despite best intentions and best efforts, the lesson we learn from the neo-socialists, communists, democratic governments is that mankind is unable to engineer the perfect society. Why have countless experiments failed or have been unsuccessful? The answer can be found in the very name given to these ventures. It’s the word “utopia.” Utopia, a Greek word, literally means “no place.” The reality is that there never has been a place on earth where human beings created a perfect peaceful community. And often it has been the very people who claim to create an earthly paradise that have caused the most devastating brokenness. The good news is that scripture shows us how peace and perfection will arrive on earth.

In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah, our principal prophet for this season of Advent, shares with us a prophetic dream of a future society, a perfect paradise. All hatreds and hostilities have disappeared, those who hated and killed their victims are now sitting side by side, the lion and the leopard lie down with the lamb and the gazelle, the child plays with the poisonous snake. Nobody is doing any harm, the poor and the weak are no longer oppressed by injustice, all seems lovey-dovey. It is paradise restored. Sounds like Utopia, right? Problem is that this ‘paradise’, this ‘utopia,’ exists in no place. But will this ever take place? Well, the Prophet Isaiah provides the clue – he points to the shoot that will spring from the stock of Jesse.

The stock or the stump of Jesse actually refers to another failed project, the broken line of the dynasty of David. The dynasty of King David had been cut down like a tree by the Babylonians in 587 B.C. when the city of Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judah was devastated and the ruling class led into exile. The people were shocked to realise that the dynasty was not really eternal. But had not God assured David: “your house and your kingdom shall endure forever before me; your throne shall stand firm forever” (2 Sam 7:16). Isaiah knew that God must always be true to His word; hence the dynasty in some way will revive. The spirit of the Lord will rest upon the stump and the roots of Jesse, and the people of God will bloom again. New life can emerge from what is perceived as a dead tree. But the solution would not be a human one. It is through God’s direct intervention that the dead tree stump would spring to life again. We need a Saviour, not just a charismatic political leader. Christ would be the answer.

The second reading also presents us with a similarly utopian vision, now of the Church. But the realities that plagued the Church during the time of St Paul’s writings were in fact dystopian. There was building tension between two group of Christians within the community. The smaller group, described as the “weak,” liked very much a traditional form of religion, prayed a lot and mortified themselves, and observed a lot of prescriptions. The other group, named the “strong,” did not pay attention to such “small” things, which they considered trivial, and held that one did not have to follow the old law; the only necessary thing was to be faithful to Christ. The two groups abused each other: the weak “passed judgment” on the strong ones, calling them unfaithful and these, in their turn “had contempt” for the weak ones, classifying them as traditionalists and without understanding. Sounds familiar?

St Paul recommends to all to be charitable, to show love and reciprocal respect. He did not need to reinvent the wheel and come up with a new blueprint for this community. Christ is THE BLUEPRINT! Our Lord, who did not seek to please Himself but placed Himself at the service of others, is the model par excellence for the qualities needed for community living. What He gives to us is “free”, salvation is a free gift because it is not something we can ever earn. But it comes at the greatest cost to Himself – He paid the cost through His own life. Harmony in the community could only be assured by the member’s commitment to Christ. St Paul challenged the “strong” as well as the “weak” to “treat each other in the same friendly way as Christ treated” them. Rather than engage in mutual criticism that would only engender hostility, they should learn “to be tolerant with each other, following the example of Christ Jesus, so that united in mind and voice (they) may give glory to God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

Finally, we come to the gospel and discover the key to Peace. It is to be found in the keynote message of the gospel and that of Advent - repentance. In today’s gospel, we hear the story of how St John the Baptist preached this message, “Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is close at hand.” What does the word Repentance mean? In Hebrew, the word for conversion (shubh) indicates that one has taken a wrong path, and once he has become aware of his detour, the individual returns to the right path in order to return to God. So too the Greek word, metanoia involves not just a static remorse but a dynamic and determined about-face, a positive commitment to a new way of life. Significantly, conversion is not a purely human decision or endeavour. Rather, conversion is a human response to the prior initiative of God.

Repentance means turning to Christ. Repentance means putting on Christ and becoming Christ. The word “Christian” means “of Christ” or a “little Christ.” It means putting God in the first place in our lives and making sure that everything else finds its rightful places in our lives under God. Repentance means letting go of our own will, in order to follow the things that God wills for us. It means turning away from sin and all rebellion against God, in order to be obedient to God and to follow Him in all that He wants from us. Repentance means owning up to our sin, our human frailties, our fears, our inner hurts and entrusting all these to God’s mercy and compassion. Repentance means knowing our need of God. In turning our lives around, we come to recognise that our self-sufficiency is inadequate and that we need to cooperate with God in our own salvation. Repentance therefore is not a one-time thing. It is a process that goes on for a lifetime. Little by little we orientate ourselves ever more perfectly in God’s love.

So as we continue our journey to Christmas, we need to repent of our comfortableness with sin. This is the only way our society and the Church can be transformed. Various utopian experiments that have sought to improve mankind and create a peaceable environment have failed. Lasting peace would not be found in any peace treaty or socio-political or economic reform. This is because, if God is not part of the equation, Utopia would remain a dream. But God’s effort to bring peace will not fail. It will succeed—through Jesus Christ and the establishment of God’s Kingdom. The Kingdom is both “free” and costly. Free because our Lord offers it to us freely. Costly because He has already paid the price for this gift. So, prepare the Way of the Lord!

There can be no peace without Christ

First Sunday of Advent Year A

One of President Trump’s biggest boasts, and he has good reason to trumpet this (pardon the pun), is that he is the “Peace President,” since he has brokered numerous peace treaties throughout the world within the first year of his presidency. One last trophy that he aspires would be to end the bloody conflict between Ukraine and Russia, a peace deal which has eluded him thus far. Well, we still have until Christmas, and that would be a wondrous Christmas gift for all stakeholders. Global peace is not just a universal aspiration in modern times but something desired throughout mankind’s turbulent history. The prophet Isaiah in the first reading sums this up in his vision: “Nation will not lift sword against nation, there will be no more training for war.”

Even as breaches against ceasefire treaties take place in various hotspots, threatening to throw warring parties back into war, the question remains: how long would this last? How can we ever get from a bloodthirsty crowd to become peaceniks? The readings on this First Sunday of Advent provide us with the answer. There can be no peace, if such peace does not exist within our hearts. And for that peace to reign in our hearts, God must rule it. And the reason why lasting peace eludes us is that we haven’t yet allowed God to truly rule our hearts.

Yes, lasting peace cannot be merely achieved through human brokered peace treaties. Threats of nuclear annihilation and oppressive trade sanctions may serve as a temporary deterrent, but violence cannot be defeated by more violence or threats of it. There may be superficial and temporary ceasefire but hatred festers unseen within the heart. Martin Luther King Jr. prophetically said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” This profound sentiment embraces the spirit of Advent and the hope that is rooted in Christ— He is the Light that has penetrated our darkness in order to dispel it, the Prince of Peace who has come to “wield authority over the nations and adjudicate between the many peoples; these will hammer their swords into ploughshares, their spears into sickles.”

In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah provides us with an astounding spoiler alert of how things would end, how darkness would be conquered by the light and how hatred would be defeated by love. You would imagine that Isaiah or God who revealed this to him would have kept this surprise to the very end, but God does not waste time in playing games with us nor wishes to keep us in suspense. The glorious ending has already been written. The peoples of Isaiah’s days see a besieged city on the brink of destruction sitting on a modest hill but God wishes to present them with an entirely new POV. The hill on which Jerusalem lies is not a particularly high one, but when Christ comes it will be a towering mountain, dominating the whole world. All nations will realise its importance and come to Jerusalem not to conquer it or to destroy it but to draw salvation from it, the source of all salvation. God will teach the people His ways, wield authority over nations, and adjudicate among the peoples. When people listen to the voice of God and abide by His will, all striving and conflict will end.

St Paul in the second reading makes a similar call when he tells us to “wake up” because “our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted. The night is almost over, it will be daylight soon – let us give up all the things we prefer to do under cover of the dark; let us arm ourselves and appear in the light. Let us live decently as people do in the daytime: no drunken orgies, no promiscuity or licentiousness, and no wrangling or jealousy. Let your armour be the Lord Jesus Christ.” St Paul’s diagnosis of the malaise of his time is equally applicable today. People continue to deliberately choose to live in sin and darkness rather than to walk in the light of Christ. That is why every Advent becomes an urgent call to “wake up” from this stupor, to repent of our sins but also to prophetically and challenge the world to do the same.

Our Lord in our Gospel today speaks to His disciples and us: “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming,” and then adds at the very end: “Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” This season of preparation for the Birth of Christ should cause us to pause to have perspective on our relationship with the Lord and make space in our hearts and lives to bring His light where there may be shadows of sin and selfishness. God’s love wants to break through the darkness so that we may be redeemed and be made new in His promises—this is our great hope. Let us be clear - only He alone can bring peace to your troubled hearts, your broken homes, and this conflicted world of ours.

In the year following the horrendous attack on the World Trade Centre in New York on September 11, Pope St John Paul II wrote these prophetic words in his message for World Day of Prayer for Peace: “No peace without justice, no justice without forgiveness: I shall not tire of repeating this warning to those who, for one reason or another, nourish feelings of hatred, a desire for revenge or the will to destroy. But only Christ can bring perfect justice and offer perfect forgiveness, for this reason, my dear brothers and sisters, there can be no peace without Christ.”

May we take in, the grace of this season—quieting ourselves so that we may watch and listen for the Lord who is already present in our midst. Make Him the centre of your lives. Let Him rule your hearts. Let His light penetrate your homes and workplace. He is coming, let us be awake, vigilant, and ready to welcome Him. Indeed, let us heed the words of the Psalmist: “Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord” and never forget that “there can be no peace without Christ.”

Long live Christ the King

Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe Year C

Twice this year, a loosed coalition of anti-Trump groups funded by globalist billionaires and endorsed by the opposition Democratic Party organised nationwide rallies in many cities across the United States under the common banner of “No Kings.” They were claiming that the man in the White House, which many refused to acknowledge as their president, who won the 2024 presidential election which many of them denied, is a pretentious tyrannical dictator, in other words, an unelected king! But there is irony in their chants and claims.

It’s wild how the same people chanting “No Kings” are the first to bow to every new trend, influencer, or ideology that tells them what to think, what to post, and what to believe. The truth is everyone serves something. The only question is who sits on the throne of your heart.

You can reject authority all you want, but it doesn’t change reality. There is a King. He doesn’t need your vote, your approval, or your permission. His name is Jesus. And unlike the kings of this world, here is a king whose throne is the cross, whose crown is made of thorns, whose soldiers do not fight for Him but mock Him, whose courtiers abandon Him, deny Him and even betray Him. The scene which we just heard in the gospel portrays this stark contrast between this King, whom we today acclaim as the King of Kings and the Lord of the Universe, and all the monarchs that have ever ruled in human history.

The “No Kings” crowd says they’re free, but their chains are just invisible. They worship self, culture, and chaos. Meanwhile, the King they reject is the only one who actually died to set them free. You can shout “No Kings” all day long, but one day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Many have stood up for their faith in this King and have died martyrs. They would rather die as faithful subjects of this Divine King than to bend their knee to some earthly ruler who demands absolute obedience to the point of suppressing faith in any religion or God.

One of these men is a saintly and faithful bishop. This year marks the 25th anniversary of Cardinal Kung's death. Cardinal Ignatius Pin-Mei Kung was the Bishop of the Catholic Diocese of Shanghai and the unofficial leader of the Underground Catholic Church in China for decades. He was consecrated bishop just after the Chinese Communist Party had taken over China. Certainly, not the best of time for the faith. In defiance of the CCP, Bishop Kung personally supervised members of the Legion of Mary to train catechists to pass on the faith when all the priests were gone.

In 1952, Bishop Kung declared that year to be a Marian Year in Shanghai, during which there was to be uninterrupted round-the-clock recitation of the rosary in front of a statue of Our Lady of Fatima which toured all the parishes of Shanghai. The holy statue finally arrived at Christ the King Church where a major arrest of the priests had just taken place only a month before. Bishop Kung led the Rosary there while hundreds of armed police looked on. At the end of the Rosary Bishop Kung prayed: "Holy Mother, we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

Between 1951 and 1955 all foreign priests and religious sisters were deported from China, sometimes after time in prison. Chinese bishops, priests, sisters and legionaries were typically arrested, subject to public humiliation, brainwashing sessions, torture, and sent to labour camps for long periods (often more than 20 years) or simply executed. Not all Catholics remained faithful.

Bishop Kung was arrested along with more than 200 priests and other Catholics on 8 September, 1955, the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He was subjected to a mob "struggle session" (an orchestrated denunciation by a baying crowd which sometimes becomes violent) in the old Dog Racing Stadium in Shanghai. Thousands were ordered to attend and to hear the Bishop's public confession of his “crimes". With his hands tied behind his back, wearing a Chinese pajama suit and a conical dunce cap (the parody of a mitre), the 5-foot tall Bishop was pushed forward to the microphone to confess. To the shock of the security police, they heard a righteous loud cry of "Long live Christ the King, long live the Pope" from the Bishop. The crowd responded immediately, "Long live Christ the King, long live Bishop Kung". For his defiant faith, Bishop Kung spent a total of thirty years in prison with long periods in isolation holding firmly to that very belief that Christ is King.

Though we continue to face opposition, persecution and hostility, wishing to silence our voices and destroy our faith, with Bishop Kung we persist in praying to Christ the King and His Blessed Mother: “we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

So, let the crowds chant “No kings.” Let their slogans rise like smoke from a fire they cannot control. Let their fists shake at a heaven they pretend not to believe in. Kings and politicians may shake and tremble at their baying. But there is a throne that does not tremble. A crown that never dulls. A King who does not campaign for allegiance, nor bend to the will of the blood-thirsty mob. His robe carries the marks of His own blood. His hands bear wounds earned for traitors. His eyes see through the shouting into the ache beneath it. He is Jesus Christ. Crucified. Risen! Reigning! Victorious!

We do not serve an idea. We serve a King. A living King. A ruling King. A returning King. Every crown will fall. Every kingdom will fade. Every chant will break against the unshakable throne of Jesus Christ. And in the end, there will not be silence. There will be song. While the chants of the haters fill the streets, another sound rises from the rooms of our homes and the pews of our churches. Knees touch the floor. Heads bow low. Words rise like incense into the night, uttering with conviction: “My King. My Lord and my God!"

He is Coming

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

When I had just arrived in a former parish, I faced my first hurdle - communicating with the sacristan who was a foreign national. He had a strange way of speaking by conflating time - past, present and future - in a single continuous tense, a perpetual “now.” One day, he called me on my off day and told me that a visiting priest was “coming already.” I then asked him for specifics. He kept repeating “coming already.” To my chagrin, I wasn’t able to decipher his message. I eventually called my assistant to speak to him and hopefully he would have some better luck. He fared better and told me that the visiting priest “had already come” in the morning and left since he didn’t get a chance to meet me. This memory has always stayed with me when I recall how the end time prophecies of our Lord appear to have the same strange way of being perceived - past, present and future - all flow into a single continuous “now.”

Though the future destruction of the Temple and the city of Jerusalem would have been prophesied by our Lord during His lifetime, the gospel of St Luke was most likely written after this cataclysmic event. Both the destruction of the Temple and persecution of Christians were regarded as the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies about “the Day of the Lord,” which we heard in the first reading. But when these events happened, they were also confirmation of the prophecy of the Lord. For those living through these times, these events were confirmation that they were living in the end times, the last days. The level of panic and fear would have been off the scale, with many feeling hapless and lost in despair. This is the reason why the eschatological message of scriptures is meant to provide courage and consolation and not meant to instil more fear or add to the anxiety of the listener.

If you were to take a closer look, the prophecy of our Lord can be divided into three parts. Though these three parts appear seamless and all seem to point to a future event, the first-generation reader of the gospel would have known that these different parts refer to different stages of the spectrum of time and history - past, present and future. With regards to the destruction of the city, this is a past event that has already happened which confirms the veracity of the words of our Lord. But when the Lord begins to list down a sample list of cataclysmic events which are both man-made and the result of natural disasters, He seems to be moving to an event or a series of events in the unknown future. Finally, this passage speaks to the reader in his current condition - he is a subject of persecution, alienation and humiliation, which the early Christian community were experiencing in the first Christian century and throughout the history of the Church.

Though the timeline seems to be blurred and any reader could easily apply the prophecy to his current situation and time (especially with regards to persecution and disasters, both natural and man-made), what the passage wishes to emphasise here is that we should not be distracted by these “signs.” This seems to be the issue with the disciples of the Lord as well as Christians of every generation - we get so caught up with the pyrotechnics, with the “signs,” and fail to see that all these things seek to highlight the only thing which matters - or to be more accurate, the only person that matters, Our Lord Jesus Christ. All “signs” point to Him, who should be our sole focus.

The “end times” may sound like an epoch in time or an event in history but it is really about a person - our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of History, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, and all times and seasons belong to Him. So, are we in the end times? The answer is simple and complex. Yes. We are living in the “end times” but it began over two thousand years ago with the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in the end times and this period of salvation history will continue until Christ’s triumphant return in glory at His Second Coming. Every generation has signs of suffering, apostasy, and renewal. But these are not signs that the end is near but a call to repentance and to grow in holiness and fidelity to our Lord. In the face of disaster, hardship and persecution, we Christians need only to remember our Lord’s words at the end of today’s passage: “Your endurance will win you your lives.”

So, there is no need for us to speculate when our Lord will return, because no one knows the day or the hour in which Christ will return in glory. But we can be certain that He will return in glory to judge the living and the dead and that His return will herald the end and final complete defeat of all His enemies - suffering, sin, death, and the power of evil. We cannot live in denial of evil. Evil is real but so is the power of good, the power of God. In fact, the good is more real because evil is always destructive, always negative, always corrupting. Whereas the good creates, builds, grows, nurtures, comforts, enhances, heals. The good news of Jesus Christ is that evil does not triumph, cannot triumph, and so we do not have to fear. We can look in the face of evil—as so many Christian martyrs have done and do even today—and persevere in loving the good. This is a promise of hope, not a threat of destruction.

Christ will return in glory at the end of time to judge the living and the dead. There will be a resurrection of the body, and God’s justice and mercy will be fully revealed. This is the true meaning of the end of the world—not fear of cosmic disaster but confident hope in the ultimate triumph of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rather than becoming preoccupied with signs and speculations, Catholics are called to live in a state of grace, anchored in the sacraments, guided by Sacred Scripture, and sustained by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. We do not need to fear the end. We belong to a Church that already knows how the story ends: Christ is victorious as He was “in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”

The Church is your Mother

Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran

Why would the Church choose to celebrate the day a church (a major basilica no less) is dedicated to the worship of God and designate it as a feast? In fact, if this feast falls on a Sunday, it will take the place of the Sunday liturgy.

This is no ordinary building. This is the cathedral of the diocese of Rome, the first Christian church dedicated after the end of the persecution of Christians, the only church described as “the mother and head of all the churches of the City of Rome) and of the world.” In a way, this Church does not only represent the Diocese of Rome but the entire universal Catholic Church. It is not only the mother of all churches but a reminder that the Catholic Church is our mother as St Cyprian beautifully puts it, “you cannot have God as your father if you do not have the Church as your mother.”

The word “basilica” in its application to Christian churches originated here. When Constantine ended the persecution of Christians with the Edict of Milan, Christians were permitted to worship publicly for the first time. Various options from the pagan world were given as possible models for the first church. The problem, however, was that most pagan temples were small, not intended for large public gatherings and communal worship. People generally did not participate in worship which was considered to be the exclusive domain of the priestly class.

So you can imagine Constantine’s surprise when he asked Pope Silvester, “how big of a temple do you want” and Pope Silvester replied, “How big can you build it?” The idea that people would actually participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was the first place built for public Christian worship in the City of Rome and as such it set the standard for all others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that the Mass is never something we watch like spectators but always something in which we participate.

This is why our Lord drove the money changers out of the temple. The money changers were thrown out not because they had reduced worship to a financial enterprise, but they represented a system where the common people were excluded from the main worship and they acted as a go-between for the priestly caste and the people. Our Lord came to establish a new Temple out of His own body, a temple in which the presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of His body raised up to be a priestly nation and royal priesthood.

My favourite part of the basilica is the Baptistry, which is reputed to be the oldest part of the basilica which has seen centuries of renovations and reconstruction. It is a squat octagonal building with its interior walls beautifully decorated with murals depicting the story of Constantine coming to the faith. The eight sides represent the Eighth Day, Sunday, the Day of our Lord’s resurrection, and thus an apt symbol of the rebirth Christians experience in the waters of baptism. It is said that this building was not built from raw fresh materials but parts of other imperial monuments. They could have used new construction material but instead they used existing material from much older buildings.

It is done so for a purpose, to teach a truth of faith. As grace builds upon nature, the sacred is taken from the profane and profoundly incorporated into the body of Christ. The ancient monuments of Old pagan Rome which tried to destroy Christianity are now subverted for the glory of God and for His Church. Sin is subverted for the greater good. That is the power of baptism – It changes all people and makes them new in Christ. The Church always has been a community of sinners seeking God’s grace. The Baptistery of St. John Lateran reminds us that no sin is greater than God’s mercy, and that the waters of Baptism and the grace of Reconciliation continue to take what is profane and make it sacred.

St. John Lateran teaches us that the Church is where we trust and celebrate God’s all-powerful, unbounded, transforming mercy. Christianity is no longer only a private, personal experience of faith or a mere spectator of human history and politics. It is now a public witness that courageously forms society and transforms cultures and no longer hides in fear of persecution or rejection and the Church has a necessary voice in world affairs. Today, we do not just celebrate the dedication of a building – we celebrate the mission of the Church which continues to teach, sanctify and provide guidance in the name of her Lord and Saviour.

Our Duty to Pray for the Dead

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

The first reading is taken from a book of the Old Testament that is missing from the Protestant Bible. Its omission is understandable as it shows how the people of the Old Testament prayed for the deceased, a practice which is considered futile and superstitious and thus rejected by the Protestants.

The two books of Maccabees speak of a time when the Jewish homeland was ruled by the Greeks who sought every means to destroy both the local culture and suppress the people’s religion. The desecration of the holy Temple of God was the last straw when the Greeks sought to turn it into a temple rededicated to their chief pagan deity, Zeus. The Jewish nationalists rose in revolt. It was not merely a nationalistic insurrection but first and foremost, a religious war. The Jewish rebels would invoke God’s assistance to defend them and to destroy their enemies. But here in chapter 12 of the second book of Maccabees, we see the Jews offering up a different form of prayer - this time not for blood of their enemies but for reconciliation of the dead.

Although Judas won this battle, many of his soldiers were killed. When their companions went to bury them, they found that each dead soldier was wearing pagan amulets under his tunic. In the minds of the Jews, it was clear why their compatriots died despite God’s protection. But instead of abandoning their souls to perdition, Judas took a collection up among his soldiers and sent an offering to Jerusalem so that sacrifices and prayers might be offered up for his men who had sinned and fallen. All is not lost even in death and when one dies a sinner. It is here that we read an important verse for us on this day, “For if (Judas) had not expected the fallen to rise again it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead, whereas if he had in view the splendid recompense reserved for those who make a pious end, the thought was holy and devout. This was why he had this atonement sacrifice offered for the dead, so that they might be released from their sin.”

Within this most positive assessment of Judas’ deed of offering prayers and sacrifices for the dead, we have the powerful justification for two important aspects of our Catholic faith - the dogma concerning purgatory and the efficacy of praying for the dead - both, unfortunately, seem to have grown out of fashion due to a subtle transformation of the Requiem or funeral Mass into a mere memorial service where the deceased are eulogised.

In our efforts to eulogise the dead, we have forgotten that funerals are meant for sinners and not perfected saints. We celebrate feast days for saints. But the truth is that we are all imperfect and most of us die imperfect, in spite of our efforts to be better. This is the reason for believing in Purgatory. Purgatory is not a midway point between heaven and hell. Purgatory is intended for those destined for heaven. Purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God which had begun in their lives would be completed. It is the “processing centre” where exiles wandering lost in the valley of sin and death are prepared for their final homecoming to their eternal home in heaven.

Most people believe that heaven is guaranteed, it is a done deal once they’re baptised and if they live relatively good lives. For this reason, many choose to not go for confession, seeing no need for it. But we need healing from the results of our sins, even if these sins are forgiven in confession. The results of sin do not just go away because the sin is forgiven. For example, a man might leave his wife and family and move in with another woman. His wife might be near a nervous breakdown. His children in turmoil. If ten years later, he seeks forgiveness for his actions, he can be forgiven not just by God but also by his wife. But the results of his sins remain. The children grew up devastated. Their father was not there when they needed him. His wife is still suffering the traumatic results of the end of their marriage. The sin is forgiven, but the effects of the sin remains. Reparation is required, and we are not talking about the monetary kind.

During our lives we approach the Lord seeking the healing for the results of our sins. That is why the Church promotes the gaining of indulgences which supplements the necessary practice of frequent confession. Indulgences deal with the effects of sin, the temporal punishment due to us, while confession absolves us of the guilt and the eternal punishment due to sin. When our lives on earth have ended, we depend on the prayers of those still living here to continue to ask God to heal the results of sin in our lives. And so, we do a disservice to our dead by canonising them prematurely, by deciding that no matter what their lives may have been like, they must be in heaven right now. It is a disservice because the faithful departed need our prayers. They need us to offer the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for them–to have Masses said for them. They need us to pray the rosary asking Mary to speak to her Son for our loved ones. They need us to visit their graves, which are visible reminders of our duty to pray for them and that we continue to remain united to them in the Communion of Saints.

On this day when we commemorate all the faithful departed whom we had lost over the years, we do so not with broken hearts nor in hopeless despair. We live as a people of hope because we believe that humanity’s exile to this sin-scarred planet of crime, cruelty, injustice, and death will one day come to an end. Just as how our Lord commanded the dead son of the widow to rise up, it is our hope and prayer, that our Lord will command all the faithful departed who have died in His peace, to rise and have a share in His glory won for us on the cross.

The Books of Maccabees tell us that it is a good thing to pray for the dead. But it is more than just a recommended “good thing,” it is our duty! Our duty is to continue to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, and we do this, because this is what the Holy Spirit has taught us to do. It is a gift of God, to allow us to share in His work in bringing His people to perfection. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.

And so we pray this ancient prayer which our ancestors prayed, and we hope that our descendants would continue to do so for us:

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

Turning One's Gaze toward God

Solemnity of All Saints

One of my favourite songs is often described as the epitome of British dark humour. Some of you may know it: “Always look on the bright side of life.” Seems like a good and encouraging piece of advice until you realised that it was sung by a person or persons dying by crucifixion (not Jesus but the movie’s eponymous protagonist, Brian, Jesus’ neighbour) and it comes in the closing scene of the Monty Python movie, with other crucifixion victims joining in the chorus as the credits roll. To declare that one should always look on the bright side of life even as one suffers the excruciatingly slow and painful execution of crucifixion is the height of irony. Is this what our Lord is suggesting in His teaching on the beatitudes? Should we be “happy” or pretend to be “happy” even when everything is going south? Is this the reason why we Christians declare that the Friday where our Lord was betrayed, tortured, humiliated and died, a “Good” Friday instead of a “bad” one?

Perhaps, there is always at least two ways of looking at a bad situation. An old ditty best sums this up: “Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw the mud, the other saw stars." This little ditty highlights that individuals in the same situation can have vastly different perspectives; one sees only the negative, while the other finds hope or the positive, demonstrating how perspective shapes one's experience and can lead to different choices.

Likewise, there are also two different ways of viewing the scenarios described by the Beatitudes. One may see them as misfortunes and even curses from God - poverty, weakness, hunger, grief, loss, persecution - who wouldn’t? But then our Lord invites us to view them as blessings and in fact a source of Christian joy. Which view seems more realistic? If we didn’t know Jesus any better, we would have chosen the former. When faced with difficulties, trials and tribulations, our first reaction would be a negative one, rather than a positive one - we would see mud, rather than stars. But the Beatitudes seek to challenge this world view.

So, how do we make the shift from seeing only mud to seeing stars, even in the most difficult and painful situations of life? The recently canonised Saint Carlo Acutis gives us the answer: “Sadness is turning one’s gaze inward; happiness is turning one’s gaze toward God. Conversion is nothing other than shifting one’s gaze from below to above. A simple movement of the eyes is enough.” The wise words of this young man shows us that the joy described by our Lord in the Beatitudes are not naive or false optimism; instead, they represent a deeper, authentic joy found not in worldly success but in humility, mercy, and aligning one's life with God's will. The Beatitudes overturn worldly standards of happiness, which often equate it with wealth, power, and success. True joy comes from recognising one's spiritual need and emptying the self to make room for God, rather than filling oneself with material possessions or self-sufficiency.

Our modern society is suffering from a pandemic of narcissism, of self-absorption, where we believe that everything revolves around us as the centre of the universe. So, every difficulty or challenge, every hurdle or obstacle we encounter in life, becomes another opportunity to moan our misfortune and decry our victimhood. The situations in the Beatitudes will definitely look like “mud”, like curses, if we are merely focusing on ourselves. Saint Acutis was correct to diagnose the cause of “sadness,” it’s “turning one’s gaze inward.”

Our Lord provides the antidote to this pandemic of narcissism through His Beatitudes. A saint is one who turns his gaze to God or as Carlo Acutis puts it, the secret to happiness is “shifting one’s gaze from below to above.” The saint is not an individual who is insulated from what the world sees as unhappy situations but is one who can shift his or her gaze from his present turmoil and sufferings to the joy of eternal life which God has promised to those who remain faithful and on course in following His Son.

In the first reading, we are given a vision of the host of saints arrayed in heaven. They are not those spared of persecution but rather those who have gone through it. In the gospel, our Lord is speaking to people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation and death are daily realities. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be blessed. They will be assured of true happiness. If we love God and the things of God as we ought, even in this life, we will consider the suffering we experience in this life as insignificant in comparison to the joys for which we hope. And unless we learn to love God above all things, and all things for God’s sake, we shall never find true happiness. This is the message of the Beatitudes.

So, our Lord invites us who are called to be saints to always reach for the stars instead of grovelling in the mud of despair. To always look on the brighter side of life is not to ignore the issues and difficulties we have to face or attempt to pull the wool over our eyes and pretend these problems do not exist. But we need to remember that concentrating on the problem can make it appear larger and more consuming. Focusing on problems can lead to depression, despair and exhaustion. If problems are the sole focus, God can diminish in your vision, leading to a forgetfulness of His promises and power. Instead, we are called like all the saints to always shift our gaze from below to above, to focus on the Lord even if we are in the midst of pain and distress because as the Psalmist assures us, we “shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves him. Such are the men who seek him, seek the face of the God of Jacob.”

At the end of his homily on the occasion of the canonisation of two amazing men, young saints of our time, Pope Leo XIV said that the lives of “Saints Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis are an invitation to all of us, especially young people, not to waste our lives, but to direct them upward and make them a masterpiece. They encourage us with their words: "Not I, but God," said Carlo. And Pier Giorgio: "If you have God at the centre of all your actions, then you will reach the end." This is the simple but sure formula of their holiness. And it is also the testimony we are called to imitate to enjoy life to the fullest and go to meet the Lord at the feast in heaven.”